The Science of Direction
by lizabay
Summary: A DirectionWhoLock


I was forced into writing this.

I don't own anything, so don't copyright kill me please!

_BANG! BANG! BANG_!

"Sherlock, I know you're bored..."

_BANG_!

"...but that doesn't give you a right to take it out on the wall again!", John finished exasperated.

With a look that screamed "to hell with my supposed non-rights" Sherlock gave a dramatic sigh and collapsed in the worn chair; but not before finishing the angry face with one last shot.

"I'm not simply bored John," he grumbled. "I feel like every ounce of life in my being is being leeched out while those incompetent idiots who supposedly run our city finally find something INTERESTING for me to solve!"

Rolling his eyes at his sulking flatmate, John glanced hopefully out the window. With a smirk, he replied, "Well, be bored no longer. There's a-"

"Yes John, my hearing is just fine. There's a large amount of vehicles pulling up in front of the flat." Sherlock cut off wearily.

"So why aren't you more excited? I thought you would be happy about a high profile case!" John said confused.

"Think John!", Sherlock retorted while shifting into a sitting position. "Only two people would come here so ostentatiously: Rich old ladies who want me to find their tiny yapping dogs, or even worse, Mycroft coming to try and intimidate me!"

"Or a rich young man.", John replied worriedly as he stared at the obviously well to do teen climbing out of the "inconspicuous" car.

"This isn't good Sherlock, rich brats get into some serious trouble, the sort of messy stuff we wouldn't want to get mixed up with.

"Plus," he continued while squinting, "he looks very familiar; although I can't tell with those huge sunglasses covering half his face. I've probably seen him in some scandal recently, and now he wants us to cover up his tracks."

"So we are NOT going to take this case, alright?", he finished, looking sternly at his flatmate. But he was too late. Sherlock was already sitting crossed-legged in his praying mantis pose, looking the epitome of calm and intelligence.

Sighing heavily now, John simply got up and murmured "I'll go put on the tea."

Within a few short minutes, a hurried knock was rapped on 221b's door.

"Took him long enough, how long does it take to find us..." Sherlock muttered darkly while John shouted out "It's open!", from the kitchen. Tentatively, a handsome blonde teen slipped in the door, pulling off his sunglasses while he did.

"When did they go missing?" Sherlock said flatly, glancing at the lad once before shutting his eyes again.

"What? How did you know that already? I thought we were able to keep the media away from this, how did you find out so quickly?", the boy sputtered in a nervous garble of words.

Walking carefully out into an already familiar scene, John glanced up from the delicate teat ray he was holding to the distressed client.

And nearly dropped the tray in shock.

"Sherlock, that's-" he started shakily.

"Its really quiet obvious, you have it written all over you." Sherlock interrupted.

"Sherlock, shut up for a mome-"

"Really, just look at yourself! The way you are constantly glancing around, as if you keep forgetting that they are missing. Not to mention your clothes, extremely plain looking at first, but brand new and too well made to be just an everyday outfit. Probably a disguise then. But why hide?

"Please, Sherlock listen-"

"Probably the same reason, your bodyguard watching me from the doorway looks extremely guilty. Not like he did the crime, but like he made a grave mistake and feels responsible.

Then looking at your choice in tra-"

Now it was Sherlocks turn to be rudely interrupted as John kicked him, hard, in the shin while giving the shaking boy an apologetic smile. "Would you like to tell what your problem is perhaps?", he said politely while glaring at the pissed off detective.

Looking relieved, the client put on a well used brilliant smile and replied, "Pleasure to meet you both, I'm Niall Horan, and I'm coming to you because the other members of my band, One Direction, are missing."

Staring blankly, Sherlock bewilderedly asked "Who?"

"He's too loud, kick him out already." Sherlock complained non-to-quietly from his crouching position on the hard linoleum floor of the backstage room.

"Sherlock, its not his fault if his stomach growls! Not only is it his trademark trait to always be hungry, we've also been running around non-stop for four hours already." John quietly hissed while glancing pityingly at the star pacing nearby.

Eyebrows raised questioningly, Sherlock mused "Really John, I never saw you as the type to follow that sort of musical group. Why would you know so much about some boy's choir member...?

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, his friend growled "Boy band Sherlock, not a choir! And that's not just some group, it's one of the most famous bands in the world! My sister is a huge fan of theirs, so I know quite a bit about them from just listening to her rave. Really though," he half-heartedly joked, "as the world's greatest consulting detective, you should know a bit more about modern culture!"

Ignoring the last remark, Sherlock continued loudly "He reminds me of a puppy I once had. He used to whine constantly like that too."

Hearing the strange comment about him, Niall stopped pacing and giggled nervously at the detective.

"What happened to him?", he asked hopefully, while John groaned.

"Please don't ask those sort of questions to him, you REALLY don't want to hear the answer." he thought as he prayed silently for Sherlock to have deleted the information from his "hard-drive".

No such luck.

Grinning wolfishly, Sherlock continued to study the floor's scoff marks while casually remarking "He died shortly after I got him, fell into our pond when nobody was looking. Mummy let me dissect him afterwards though, so he turned out to be very useful indeed."

Suddenly looking extremely serious, he turned and stared intently at the horrified boy.

"You aren't considering donating your body to science by any chance...?"

To both flatmates' shock, Niall's terrified face suddenly melted into amusement as he burst out laughing. When he regained enough composure to talk, he breathlessly said "I didn't realize you had a sense of humor! I thought you were a bit of a grump at first, but mate, you're secretly hilarious!"

Still chuckling, he slapped Sherlock playfully on the back; causing the great detective to jerk suddenly in shock and crash ungracefully to his knees.

Well, that was the final straw for his hardly existing patience.

With a vicious growl, Sherlock swiftly shot up to his full six foot height till he towered over the startled star. Throughly fed up, he hissed down at him, "I could tell the media everything. Your fears, your desires, your secret habits, which of the stagehands you have a secret crush on. Everything. I will tell them all of this if you don't stop polluting this room with your idiotic presence RIGHT NOW."

Looking nervous now, Niall glanced over to where the doctor was standing. Seeing the exasperated nod of consent, he quietly crossed the room and shut the door silently as he left.

Holding out until he was sure Niall was out of hearing range, John finally broke and burst out laughing. Seeing that it was permitted, Sherlock chuckled along with him while crouching quickly back down. Shaking his head in wonder, John said in between giggles "I cant believe you just threatened the most popular teen in the entire Britain! Even figuring out his girlfriend, you could sell that information for a fortune!"

"Really though," he added, growing serious. "Don't threaten a star like that again. Their private lives are really important to them, and if you did tell..."

Snorting disdainfully, Sherlock started sweeping up dust into a bag while saying "It got him to leave, didn't it? Besides, I've got more important things to think about." And with a flourish, he picked up a microscopic object from the bag and showed it to John.

"A tiny blue wood-chip Sherlock? So what?" John asked.

"Not just any wood-chip John," he replied growing excited. "It's part of the Doctor's TARDIS!"

"Doctor WHO?"

"They're WHERE?!" Niall and John shouted out in utter shock.

Sighing at their total lack of braincells, Sherlock began to repeat slowly "It's not that complicated for even you idiots to understand, an alien named the Doctor, a close aquiatence of mine actually, took your coworkers on a trip in his time and space traveling machine. He's probably-"

"Yes yes, we got what you said the first time Sherlock!" John cut in. "Its believing what you said that is so hard to do! Besides, I thought you had no interest in the solar system, why make friends with a space traveling alien?!"

"He's been protecting Earth from hostile attacks for centuries, of course I looked him up ages ago." Sherlock replied nonchantanly.

Seeing the looks of utter confusion on John and Nialls' faces, he raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Giant spiderweb attacking London? Titanic flying over the Palace? Killer mannequins? None of this registers?!" Muttering angrily, Sherlock whipped out his mobile and started texting his pompous brother about his stupid ideas of security.

While he did this, a dazed Niall turned towards John and whispered cautiously "Sherlock, he is kidding right?" Collapsing heavily into the nearest plastic chair, John ran his hand through his hair for a few seconds before sighing heavily and replying "As disturbing as this is, Sherlock doesn't waste precious brain space to crack jokes like this. He's telling the truth I'm afraid."

Sucking in a deep breath, Niall nodded in acceptance and walked over to where the fuming texting detective was. Cautiously, he called out "Um, Sherlock? How are we suppose to contact this alien that kidnapped the gang?"

"He didn't kidnap them, weren't you listening when I said he PROTECTS the Earth?!" he crossly growled. "As for contacting him, we could dress up like extra terrestrials and strap a bomb on Mycroft."

"As tempting as that is, I don't think the CIA would appreciate if we borrowed the British Government from them. He's in America, remember?" John pointed out thoughtfully.

"Good point. So we would have to do it THAT way." Sherlock said unhappily.

Grinning nervously, Niall asked "What is more dangerous than tying this Mycroft guy to a bomb?"

"Nonono, not more dangerous" Sherlock muttered darkly. "Much more boring! We are going to have to call him."

"Doctor, are you in immediate danger right now?"

Standing silently in 221b's living room, John and Niall couldn't help but smirk at each other as the strangest phone conversation they ever heard of took place.

"I think an angry tribe of four headed Quilivan isn't going to cut it." Sherlock flatly said while shaking his head subtly.

Suddenly perking up after a short pause, he questioned in amazement "Four headed Quilivan invading Spain? That changes everything then! Are you in the 14th century by any chance?"

*cough cough*

Glancing at John miming checking the time, he rolled his eyes at him and amended "Well, as exiting as that must be, try to hurry back to my flat as soon as you can. You need to return some of my client's coworkers to him before the female population of the modern world starts a revolution; or at least a disastrous revolt according to Tumblr."

Snapping his mobile shut, Sherlock hurried quickly to the kitchen and started filling the kettle. Following closely behind, Niall asked "So he's coming now?" while John simultaneously inquired "Aliens like tea?"

While starting to place the bags in, Sherlock distractedly replied "Yes yes. The Doctor is very fond of tea, proud of the fact that he caused its discovery I suppose, and he is using his TIME MACHINE to get here as soon as he can."

As soon as he finished saying this, a strange whirring and screeching noise suddenly came from the living room. Within seconds, the blonde duo rushed in in time to see a bright blue phone box materialize in the middle of the room. With a creak, the door swung open to reveal the curly head of Harry Styles wearing a 17th century riding hat.

"Hey, I found Niall!" he cheerfully called back into the box.

"Its about time! I was scared he would sleep through everything!" an amused Zayn replied while stepping out into the flat in similar garb.

"Wait mates, I need help getting this bloody armor off!" Liam called from somewhere inside.

"Well, thats what you get for wearing a 14th century suit of armor to a 17th century battle." the older voice of the Doctor cheekily scolded while he dramatically spun out in a bright noble's outfit.

"I'll help him..." an exasperated Louis shouted out.

"Guys!" Niall joyfully called out while rushing over to man-hug his friends.

"You have to check this ship out Niall! It's got a endless kitchen of food, and it actually travels back in time and through space!" Harry babbled out while hugging back.

"We wanted to invite you, but you were asleep and we got into a fight about bow ties and it was so sudden..." Liam added sheepishly while stumbling out.

"Endless kitchen of food..." Niall simply replied dazedly while being dragged inside the ship.

Over the cry of "It's bigger on the inside!" the Doctor cheerfully introduced himself to the army doctor.

"Pleased to meet you at last Johnny" he said while shaking his hand vigorously. "Sherlock told me about you last time he nearly got me killed because of some case of his. Russian mafia, gotta love their hats!"

"You were perfectly safe you idiot, you had the TARDIS within easy running distance the whole time." Sherlock sharply shot out while entering the room, balancing the tray precariously on his hand.

"Oh leave it to you to ruin a good story!" the Doctor whined back.

"It was you who exaggerated it in the first place."

Shaking his head in disbelief, John just grabbed each of the grown men by their collars and dragged them into the TARDIS while calmly scolding "You children can fight it out after everyone explains whats going on and drinks their tea."

With a final slam, the door shut behind them, and something amazing, earth shattering, and total insane was born.


End file.
